


(mis)Communication

by SailorChibi



Series: agentironhawk verse [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with feels, Aromantic Asexual Natasha Romanov, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Asexual Natasha Romanov, Bittersweet Ending, Bottom Tony Stark, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton & Tony Stark Friendship, Communication is hard, Crying, Cuddling, Deaf Clint Barton, Developing Relationships, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Hugging, M/M, Multi, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Not Age of Ultron Compliant, Open Relationships, Panic Attacks, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic bed sharing, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Phil Coulson, Rhodey is a good friend, SHIELD still exists, Shy Tony Stark, Talking, Team as Family, Tender Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, an ending with potential, break-up, communication is important for relationships, cute nicknames, embarrassed tony stark, implication of past unhealthy relationships, non-sexual affection, not civil war compliant, reconcilliation, relationships are hard, rhodey's a good bro, steve and tony break up, steve doesn't know how to handle a relationship, steve is not a bad guy, steve rogers is young, talking matters, team rallying around Tony, the break up is not nasty, then tony gets together with phil and clint, tony is not a bad guy, tony loves to be touched, tony stark doesn't know how to use his words, touch starved, use your words boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tony, Tony, hey. You know what's not how it works. You can't 'shouldn't' yourself into not feeling something," Clint said. "If it's what you need, and you've communicated that to Steve and he's not giving it to you, then maybe you shouldn't be with him."</p><p>Tony was silent, rolling those words over in his mind, and finally shook his head. "I can't break up with him. It's Steve. It's <i>Captain America</i>."</p><p>"Even Captain America can be bad at sex," Clint said patiently. "We've had this discussion before."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission for an anon who wanted Tony and Steve breaking up because Steve wasn't/couldn't fulfill Tony's needs, and then Tony getting together with Phil and Clint (while still becoming friends with Steve). This is that story.

As the pleasurable grunts and moans slowly died away, the room went quiet.

Too quiet.

"God that felt good," Steve said finally, breaking the silence. He straightened, rolling his shoulders with a wince. His skin was peppered with bruises, not from Tony but from a mission with SHIELD, so recent that the serum hadn't had the chance to heal them yet. The worst of the lot, a muzzle-shaped splotch high on Steve's jaw where a Hydra goon had gotten a little too close with a gun, stood out in stark shades of purple and black. 

"Yeah, it did," Tony said, realizing that the moment had dragged on a little too long without his contribution. It didn't seem to matter. Steve was rolling out of the bed and sauntering into the bathroom; he came back a few seconds later with a dampened cloth, which he used to wipe off his midsection. He then tossed the cloth to Tony and returned to their bed, pulling the sheets back and climbing in. The lights, already dimmed to 50%, automatically darkened the rest of the way until the only source of light was from the arc reactor.

It was just enough for Tony to see that his fingers were shaking as he was half-heartedly swiped at the mess on his belly. He gritted his teeth, trying to force the reaction back down, not wanting Steve to know. This was why he hadn't slept with anyone after Afghanistan. The _issue_ had been bad enough when he was younger, but after everything - especially the Battle of New York - it had easily gotten twice as bad. But it was like trying to hold onto oil with his bare hands: the panic oozed up from his belly, sliding into his chest and constricting his lungs.

Steve had rolled over, putting his back to Tony and the rest of the room. By the sound of his breathing, he was either already asleep or most of the way there. Tony stared at his bare back, wanting nothing more than to scoot across the bed and fit himself up against Steve. Or, even better, for Steve to roll over and pull Tony into his arms so that they could talk for a few minutes before falling asleep. They used to sleep that way frequently, Tony's back to Steve's chest, talking until one or both of them fell asleep, but honestly Tony couldn't remember the last time that had happened. More and more, Steve would roll over and pass out immediately, leaving Tony to deal with - with this.

Which was fine. Really. It was fair. Steve didn't deserve to deal with his issues.

Moving slowly and carefully, he pushed the covers back. Sweat broke out on his body even as he shivered. He put his feet down on the ground and hurried towards the door on legs that felt too weak to support his weight. It was better once he was outside the bedroom and could lean against the door, letting out the hitched sob where he could be sure that Steve's ears wouldn't hear it. The last thing he wanted was Steve to find out about his freak-outs; knowing Steve, he would insist they stop having sex and that would be unbearable. Sometimes it felt like the only thing that kept Tony going were those precious few minutes before bedtime, when he and Steve were naked and touching and it was all glorious - at least until the orgasms were over.

"Is anyone else awake, J?" he whispered.

"Agent Barton is in the kitchen, sir," JARVIS responded, voice low.

Tony moved on autopilot, body walking on its own accord, bringing him to the kitchen door. Sure enough, Clint was sitting at the kitchen table. One foot tapped restlessly at the ground as he set out graham crackers and covered each one with a little square of milk chocolate. The bag of marshmallows close by suggested that he was making s'mores, which meant that Phil had to be in residence. Of the two of them, Phil was definitely the one with the sweet tooth. Clint was more the kind to make off with Tony's bags of cheetos.

Clint wasn't wearing his hearing device, but something - the vibration of Tony's feet against the floor, maybe - alerted him to Tony's presence. His head lifted, the smile immediately dropping into a worried frown, and Tony figured he had to look pretty shitty for Clint to look that concerned. Clint jumped up, the s'mores forgotten, and came around the table. His hands moved too fast for Tony to follow. He shivered again, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling like even more of a failure than before.

Because he was a failure, wasn't he? He couldn't even have sex with his fucking boyfriend without having a panic attack because they didn't cuddle afterwards. Tony was officially pathetic. He stumbled back a step, wrapping his arms around his waist, and slammed into the counter hard enough to hurt. But that was okay, it was a convenient excuse for his legs to give out. He slid to the floor, curling up even though that made it a lot harder to get any air in and yup, he was now officially gasping for breath like he'd just run a marathon.

His head was spinning and his throat was tight and he couldn't breathe and it was hard to think, but Sunset's cold smile and Tiberius's smirk kept popping up in his mind -

A warm palm touched his back, rubbed in one big circle, and then fingertips touched his bare skin and began drawing random patterns. Gradually, Tony realized that they meant something. He identified a tree, the quinjet, the letter B, and three arrows before he realized that his breathing had started to even out and that his heart wasn't racing quite as fast. As the adrenaline faded, he was left feeling cold and shaky. He put his head in his hands.

"Okay?" Clint asked, soft enough that Tony could choose to ignore it if he wanted to.

"No," Tony mumbled, but only because Clint would know if he was lying. He chanced a peek as Clint drew a house and saw that Clint had his hearing aids in. Which meant that Phil, or maybe Natasha, had been in the room and seen him while he was in the middle of a panic attack. His misery was complete.

"Can I hug you?" 

Tony nodded, shivering again, and let Clint pull him into a hug. He cuddled closer, because Clint never seemed to mind, and pressed his face into the crook of Clint's neck. Belatedly, it occurred to him that he was naked. He hadn't taken the time to get dressed.

"Sorry. I should've put pants on," he said.

"I think we can forgive the rule this one time," Clint said. There was a smile in his voice. He started drawing on Tony's back again. "Was it...?"

"He went to sleep right after," Tony said, too loud judging from the way Clint shifted. "And I'm a stupid fuck who can't control myself."

"Hey. Tony, you know that's not true."

"It is! It's just _sex_ , Clint, I shouldn't need to be hugged and coddled afterwards." Tony spit the words out like they were poison. In a way, they were. He was a burden on Steve right now; no one wanted a lover that needed to be held and coaxed down from a panic attack after sex. Nothing ruined a post-orgasmic high quite like that level of neediness.

"You need aftercare, and that's not a bad thing. You're allowed to ask for the things you need," Clint said firmly. His right hand was a grounding presence on Tony's hip while his left hand drew an animal of some kind. A dog, maybe.

"That's only for kinky sex," Tony muttered, soaking up the touch. It helped, giving his scattered thoughts something concrete to focus on.

Clint actually chuckled, though it sounded strained. "No, babe, it's really, really not."

"Yes it is!" Tony said, making a face that Clint couldn't see. He was getting upset again. "I'm just - it's been years, I should be able to control this by now, what they did shouldn't matter -"

"Tony, Tony, hey. You know what's not how it works. You can't 'shouldn't' yourself into not feeling something," Clint said. "If it's what you need, and you've communicated that to Steve and he's not giving it to you, then maybe you shouldn't be with him."

Tony was silent, rolling those words over in his mind, and finally shook his head. "I can't break up with him. It's Steve. It's _Captain America_."

"Even Captain America can be bad at sex," Clint said patiently. "We've had this discussion before."

They had. Tony licked his lips. "I miss the way we used to be," he admitted, face growing hot. He was thankful for the dimmed lights and the fact that he didn't have to look Clint in the face right now. But it was the truth. He missed how Steve used to hug him all the time, or put a hand on his shoulder, or cuddle beside him on movie nights. He missed how Steve used to seek him out, how his face would light up when Tony walked into the room, or how they'd wake up in the morning so tangled up that it was impossible to get up without waking the other.

"Does Steve?"

"I don't know. No. I don't think he notices." Tony thought it was probably a car now, judging by the four tiny circles Clint's finger had just traced. "He's just... he's busy. That's all. I'm busy too."

"Maybe you're two different kinds of busy," Clint said. "Maybe you guys are just at different points in your life. Maybe you want different things. You're not a failure, babe."

The nickname, only used when they were alone, never failed to make Tony feel warm inside. He let out a shuddery sigh, holding Clint a little tighter. "I don't know what to do."

"You could talk to him. See what he thinks. Maybe he just doesn't know what you need."

"Maybe," Tony said quietly. He couldn't put it into words right now, not when his stomach was so twisted up with nausea, but he and Steve had talked about it once. Briefly. After the second time they'd had sex, he'd summoned the courage to roll into Steve for a hug. Steve had laughed and made some comment about Tony being a cuddler. Tony, embarrassed, nodded regardless and said that he needed it after sex. Steve had been pretty faithful about supplying cuddles regularly, not just after sex, for the first three months of their relationship.

Then, slowly, things changed. They both got busy; Steve with additional SHIELD missions, volunteer work, Bucky and therapy, and Tony with Stark Industries and the new clean living initiative they were building towards. Not to mention, they were both still active Avengers. Whole weeks would pass with no more than a quick kiss between them, and a couple of times Steve had brushed him off when Tony sought him out. And after sex, Steve usually left immediately or fell asleep.

He couldn't remember the last time Steve had given him a hug, or held his hand, or touched him in a non-sexual way. He said as much to Clint, who tensed up a little but answered evenly enough.

"If that's something you need, you're allowed to ask for it, Tony. You're not being selfish. A relationship is a two-way street. It took Phil a long time to beat that into my head, and I'm gonna make sure you learn it too."

"I'm pathetic," Tony decided.

"Yup, nope, we've officially entered moping territory and my ass is too cold to deal with this." Clint stood up, stupidly graceful, and carefully pulled Tony up too. He wrapped an arm around Tony's waist and helped him out of the kitchen; it was moments like this that Tony loved Clint the most, because he knew Clint would never say a word about just how much Tony was leaning on him.

They crept down the hall together, which was otherwise dark and quiet, until they got to the room that Clint and Phil shared. The lights were at roughly 30%, providing just enough light for Tony to see that the bed was already occupied. Natasha was on the far side of the bed, flat on her back, eyes closed. Phil was lying beside her, but he was on his side facing Clint and Tony. He didn't even try to pretend that he was asleep, his dark brown eyes locked onto Tony and Clint as they entered the room.

Tony stopped, shivering, and wrapped his arms around himself as Clint went to the dresser. He tossed Tony a pair of his own boxers and one of Phil's t-shirts and disappeared into the bathroom. Tony dressed quickly and then made a beeline for the bed, where Phil had already drawn the covers back in preparation for him to slide right in. It was warm and comfortable, especially when Phil pulled him into a hug. Tony snuggled into his grip, pressing his ice cold toes against Phil's thigh. Phil jerked a little and muttered something, but he didn't push Tony away.

"Bad night?" he asked.

"The worst," Tony said, closing his eyes. The panic tried to claw back up his throat, but he could hear the rhythm of Phil's heart and Natasha's breathing and he focused on those familiar sounds. 

The bathroom light turned off and Clint came out. He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the full bed. "Tasha, don't you have a bed of your own?"

"So does Tony," she said without moving an inch. "I was here first."

"I can go..." Tony said, though he didn't move. It was an offer he made every time, whether Natasha was there or not, and every time Phil had the same reaction.

"You will not. Clint, stop whining and get in bed," Phil ordered. "There is enough room for everyone."

"Don't let Thor hear you say that," Natasha said. Tony could tell she was smirking, probably thinking about the stories Thor had regaled them with about the team orgies they apparently had on Asgard. As far as Tony knew, Natasha was both asexual and aromantic, and the only reason she occasionally sought out a spot in Clint's and Phil's bed was because of her nightmares; on bad nights, she preferred having someone she trusted watch her back while she slept. So he didn't think she would be interested in that... but then again, he also never thought that Phil and Clint would willingly (and repeatedly) open their beds to him.

"If Thor ever comes to our door, we are buying a bigger bed," Clint grumbled, but he was smiling as he slipped in beside Tony. He cuddled up to Tony's back, pushing his knees into the backs of Tony's thighs. Under the covers, one of Natasha's hands crept across Phil's hip and found Tony's, squeezing it gently. 

The bed was hot and crowded, like always. It was easily the best sleep Tony'd had in days.

Natasha and Phil were both gone when he woke up the next morning - not surprising, both of them were early risers. Clint, on the other hand, loathed mornings; he threw a possessive arm over Tony's waist and refused to let him leave until almost noon, which was the point when Natasha returned and threatened to flip the mattress if the two of them didn't get up. Tony made his escape while the two of them were bickering with each other like siblings, slipping out the door and making his way back to his own bedroom. His stomach did a series of flip flops when he realized that Steve was in the room, just coming out of the shower.

"Hey," Steve said with a smile, wrapping a towel around his waist. He detoured to brush a kiss against Tony's cheek. "Long night in the workshop again?"

"Kinda," Tony said. Not for the first time, he wondered how Steve could be so oblivious. Didn't he notice that Tony was wearing clothing that belonged to two other men? Or maybe he just didn't care. 

"You and your science," Steve said, shaking his head indulgently. "So listen, I just got a heads-up from Fury. Something about a mission. I gotta head out now because I'm having lunch with Sam and Sharon first, and Buck asked me to attend one of his therapy sessions with him. Also, I took on a couple more shifts volunteering this month. A few people quit so they needed the extra help." His voice became more distant as he headed into the closet. "Sharon asked if we could go on a double date with her and her new boyfriend, too. Something about getting her great-aunt's seal of approval second hand." He laughed.

The more he heard about how busy Steve's life was, the more Tony wondered if there was space in it for him. Which was blatantly unfair, and he knew it. Pepper had taught him that relationships went both ways. He still believed that it was mainly his fault that they had broken up, but he was slightly more willing to believe that Pepper had a small share of the blame. Like, 5%. Point was, both he and Steve needed to make the time.

It was just so much easier to talk about this kind of stuff with Clint. He just seemed to get what Tony was trying to say with barely any effort on Tony's part.

"Steve," Tony said. His hands felt cold. He twined his fingers around the hem, swallowing nervously. "I - do you remember that time we had sex, and you called me a cuddler afterwards?"

"Yeah, of course I do." Steve came back out of the closet, holding jean and a shirt. He threw them on the bed and went to the dresser for some boxers.

"It's just... we haven't been cuddling much lately." Tony literally could not believe those words had just come out of his mouth. He could practically hear Howard yelling at him from beyond the grave about what a damned wuss he was being.

"I guess we've both been busy," Steve said, pulling the boxers on. "Oh, did I forget to mention that Sam and I might need to go to DC for a couple of weeks? It's not for sure yet, but it's a possibility. I'll keep you in the loop."

"But I -" Tony couldn't do it. He couldn't say "but I need it". He looked at Steve, who was pulling jeans on, and thought about Clint. About what Clint would want him to say. He forced it out. "Steve, could you... could you hug me?"

Steve hauled his t-shirt on. As his face reappeared, it looked surprised. "Now? Tony, I don't have the time. I told you, I have to head out to meet Sam and Sharon."

There was a small part of Tony that wasn't surprised. A bigger part was resigned. It would take two seconds for Steve to hug him. Tony hadn't even asked for a long hug. Just _a_ hug. And Steve wasn't even willing to give him that, but he could take the time to wear the jeans that required a belt because they were a size too big. The break-up between him and Pepper had gone down this road: the two of them had started drifting apart more and more. Even if Tony could - somehow - find a way to say the words, he didn't know if Steve would ever have the time to listen. His heart started to race, to the point where he felt lightheaded.

"I can't do this anymore," he heard himself say, as though from a great distance.

"What?" Steve froze in the middle of tying his sneakers. "Tony?"

"I think we should break up."

"Break up? Why?!"

"Because neither of us is getting what we need out of this," Tony said, and as soon as the words were out he knew they were the truest thing he'd said all year. He was getting some amazing sex out of this, but he couldn't keep dealing with what happened after the fact. It was just too much. Meanwhile, Steve deserved someone who could go on double dates and wasn't so pathetically needy. 

"Tony, I -"

"Captain, Agent Carter is waiting for you downstairs and wishes for me to inform you that you are already ten minutes late and she is most displeased," JARVIS said smoothly. Tony could've kissed him for that timely interruption. He didn't think he could stand here and hash this out with Steve, or worse get into a fight with him about it. Either he would end up giving in and the cycle would just repeat itself, or he and Steve would walk out hating each other. A clean separation was better for them all around.

Steve frowned, looking torn. "JARVIS, please tell her to wait a little longer. Tony, listen -"

"My apologies, Captain, but she asked me to say that Director Fury has upgraded the mission to critical and your presence is required immediately."

"Damnit," Steve said under his breath. "Tony, we need to talk about this when I come back."

"Nope. No talking. All talking is done."

"Tony..."

"Just go, Steve." Tony stepped aside, leaving the door free. "Just go."

He didn't look, but he heard Steve's footsteps move towards the door. They paused briefly, as though Steve wanted to say or do something, before continuing. Tony let out a shuddering breath once he was alone, a familiar burn starting behind his eyes. He couldn't believe he'd just done that. Dating Captain America was something he'd dreamed about since he was like four years old.

"JARVIS," he said, and his voice was all shaky. "Is Clint or Natasha around?"

"My apologies, sir. They were called to SHIELD along with Captain Rogers and Agent Carter. Shall I call Agent Coulson?"

Tony jammed his palms into his eyes, hoping to stem the flow of tears before they began. "Isn't he gone too?"

"No, sir. At present, Agent Coulson is doing paperwork at the kitchen table."

"Please," Tony whispered. He was starting to shake.

Less than a minute later, Phil came into the room. He wasn't running - Phil Coulson only ran for true emergencies, and it was a widely known fact that if he was running then you should be running too - but he was moving fast. He came right over to Tony, his expression settling into something so gentle that it hurt to look at. Tony looked down, putting his hands over his face again.

"Tony?" Phil said.

"I did it. I broke up with him," Tony said hoarsely. He might not have confided in Phil as much as Clint, but he knew that Phil knew exactly what was going on. 

"Are you okay?"

Tony nodded. Then he shook his head. 

"I think," Phil said, very kindly, "that maybe we should find Bruce and Thor and then have a movie day, just the four of us. I bet Bruce would make some of his special hot chocolate. Would you like that?"

"Yeah." Embarrassingly, that was the moment when his voice broke. But all Phil did was reach out and pull him into a hug. He didn't say a single platitude, or anything really. He just stood there and hugged Tony and let Tony cry all over his shirt. And when Tony needed to sit down, but didn't want to sit on the bed because it still smelled too much like Steve, he sat down right there on the floor with Tony practically in his lap and stayed there with him for hours.

Eventually they did move to the living room. JARVIS had to have told Bruce and Thor what happened, because Thor pulled Tony's feet into his lap and gave him the most amazing foot massage ever, while Bruce showed up with hot chocolate and two bowls of popcorn without being asked. Had it not been for the fact that Tony had just broken up with his boyfriend, it would've been a very nice way to spend the day.

He ended up in Phil’s bed against that night, Tony sleeping with his head under Phil’s chin. Or at least, he tried to sleep. Mostly he spent the night listening to Phil’s heart beat and wondering how it had all gone so wrong. Wondering if there had ever been a chance for him and Steve, or if their relationship – like Tony and Pepper – had just been doomed from the beginning.

To the credit of his friends, they all seemed determined not to let him wallow endlessly. Thor pretended to have a burning desire to visit several places in the world, which meant that he and Tony regularly ended up taking flights together – just the two of them. It felt so good to be in the armor for a reason other than fighting that Tony didn’t even bother calling on him, and he had to admit that the night they went to Paris and met Jane, Darcy and Erik for a costly dinner was a pretty spectacular one.

The fact that Tony ended up calling a private jet because all three of them decided to hitch a ride back to New York was just a bonus, judging by the enormous smile that covered Thor’s face for the next three days. Big enough that Tony immediately reached out to a couple of people he knew and the next day Jane received new grant funding, enough to keep her in New York for a while.

Bruce came up with a bunch of new experiments, and of course he just needed Tony’s help with all of them. The first time Tony walked into Bruce’s lab, he realized that it had been a while since he and Bruce had spent any real time together. Life was busy, and life with Steve was even busier. And at least in the lab, there was no time to let his mind dwell on what he’d lost, the way there was when he flew with Thor.

Pepper didn’t say a word about it. But she knew. She and Phil were in close confidence still. On Saturday morning, three days after Tony had broken up with Steve and four days since he’d last slept, she showed up in the kitchen with donuts and open arms. Tony might have cried. A little. 

But it was Rhodey and Phil who were the best. Rhodey came armed with pizza and beer, and the two of them got black-out drunk in the workshop. Phil was there the next morning, prying them both off the floor and pouring water down their throats before putting them to bed – Rhodey in the guest bedroom, and Tony in Phil’s and Clint’s bed because he couldn’t bear to go back to the room he and Steve had shared.

His room. Tony’s room, long before it had belonged to him and Steve, and yet when he entered for the first time post-break-up it was like a completely different place. If it weren’t for Phil, he probably would’ve been crashing on the couch in the workshop. Which was a perfectly acceptable place to sleep, no matter what Pepper said about furniture that had been made in the 1960’s and which now needed to be burned.

He woke up later that night with a headache that rivaled the ones he’d had when he was dying. Phil was sitting beside him on the bed. For once, he wasn’t going through paperwork, but was reading a book. An actual book. Tony would have to mock him later for that. For now, Phil just looked down at him and raised an eyebrow when Tony let out a piteous groan.

“Something wrong?”

“I’m dying,” Tony muttered, rolling over and pressing his nose into Phil’s thigh. His mouth tasted like he’d eaten something rotten. He hoped that, in his drunken idiocy, he hadn’t accepted a smoothie from Dummy.

“You’re not dying, you just consumed too much alcohol,” Phil replied. He sounded like he was trying not to smile. He sounded like that a lot around Tony and Clint. He put a hand on Tony’s shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscles, and Tony sighed.

“Ugh, love Rhodey. Love you,” Tony said sleepily. The hand rubbing at his shoulders paused briefly before resuming. 

“You only love me because I have tylenol,” Phil said.

Tony’s head popped up at the mention of medication, then he groaned again when the world spun fast enough to make his stomach threaten to rebel. He reeled back, one hand flying to his head. “Ow, shit.”

Phil laughed at him, but only after he gave Tony the tylenol.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve, Clint and Natasha didn't return to the tower for another two weeks. What was supposed to be a relatively simple mission had turned into a black-out, no contact, high priority, shit-is-going-down mission, and according to Phil it was a bad one – bad enough that Sam and Bucky returned to the tower with them, though no one realized that last part until Tony looked up from the late night supper that Phil was all but force-feeding him to see Natasha standing in the doorway, Bucky just behind her. 

“I loathe humanity,” Natasha announced. Or at least Tony thought it was Natasha. The woman standing in the doorway was covered in mud, blood and some other unidentifiable substance from head to toe, so it was kinda hard to tell. 

“Humanity loves you too,” Tony said, blowing her a kiss from a safe distance. She bared her teeth by way of answer and stalked past the room, leaving a trail of footprints behind her as she walked down the hall. Bucky started to follow, then hesitated.

“My arm needs maintenance,” he said to Tony, but uncertainly, like he wasn’t sure the offer was still open. That was when Tony knew that Steve had told all of them what happened. It shouldn’t have been a surprise – Bruce, Thor, Phil, Rhodey and Pepper all knew – but it still made his stomach flip over. Oh god, he wasn’t ready to talk to Steve again yet.

But Bucky was still looking at him, and Tony forced a smile. “No problem, Buckaroo. You know I’m always open for business.”

Clint snorted as he trudged by Bucky. “Literally.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Bucky asked, running a filthy hand through his even filthier hair and ignoring Clint entirely. “Part of the problem might well be… this.” He waved a hand at himself.

Tony nodded. “Come see me and we’ll fix it.”

Bucky’s smile was shy. “Thanks.” He traipsed after Clint.

Two more muddy, possibly bloody people followed, Steve distinguishable from Sam only by the wide set of his shoulders and height. Tony breathed out shakily. Just one month ago, he would’ve hoped up and gleefully followed Steve down the hallway, jumped in the shower with him and helped Steve to get fully clean. Then they probably would’ve shared a quiet, private breakfast before Steve collapsed into bed for the next day or two.

A hand settled on his knee and squeezed. Tony turned his head and looked at Phil’s sympathetic, knowing face for just a second before Phil stood up and went after Clint. That left Tony alone at the breakfast table with Thor. He stared down at the plate of half-eaten pancakes, suddenly without an appetite. At least with Pepper, there was the opportunity to get some space. Pepper had run things from the Malibu office for about six months, until she and Tony were comfortable enough for her to relocate back to New York.

Steve, though. He would see Steve _every single_ day. They’d have to spend time together, of course they would. They were a team. Tony couldn’t let one little break-up ruin the Avengers. He knew that. But it was just now hitting him how hard this was going to be. 

“I am sorry,” Thor said, breaking the silence. Tony looked up at him. Thor’s face was kind. “Ending a relationship, whether it be a friend or a loved one, is never an easy task.”

“It’ll be fine,” Tony said, pushing his plate away. “I’ll just… hide in the workshop for a while.”

“I don’t think hiding is going to solve your problem. The tension will still be there when you come out. It’s not going to magically disappear, tempting though it is to think it would.”

Tony sighed. “Maybe I should go on hiatus from the team.”

“Are you sure that would make you happy?” Thor asked, outright skeptical, and Tony dropped his gaze.

Because no, it wouldn’t. It would mean getting a break from Steve yeah, but Tony would be miserable in the meantime. He tried to picture sitting back and letting the team fight without him and couldn’t. First time there was a battle, Tony would be suiting up too. That was one of the reasons why he and Pepper had broken up in the first place; he couldn’t live his life without being Iron Man. The armor was a part of him.

“I wish Steve and I had never gotten together in the first place,” Tony muttered, throat tight. He’d known it was too good to last, though admittedly he’d never once thought that he would be the one to break things off. He’d always thought it would be Steve who would wise up and realize that Tony wasn’t good enough for him.

“Do you need a hug?” Thor asked. 

And since it was Thor, who was possibly the least judgmental person on the planet and who was fond of giving hugs to just about everyone, Tony nodded. In the next moment, Thor stood up, pulled Tony’s chair back, and then he was being scooped up into a huge hug. Literally. Thor was so tall that Tony’s feet were dangling a couple of inches off the ground. 

Tony hugged him back for at least a couple of minutes, until his eyes had stopped burning and he was a little more under control. Then he patted Thor on the back and said hoarsely, “Thanks buddy.”

“You are most welcome, my friend. I know this is a difficult time for you, but I am here if you need anything,” Thor said, gently setting him back down. “That includes my bed, if you have need of a place to sleep now that Steve has returned.”

“I… honestly haven’t thought that far ahead, but thanks for the offer,” Tony said, patting his huge shoulder. “I might have to take you up on that.”

Thor smiled at him. “You are welcome,” he repeated. “So that we may not waste food, are you going to eat your pancakes?”

Tony had to laugh. “No, you have at it. I think I have some paperwork to fill out for Pep.” He backed out of the room and headed for the elevator. It wasn’t hiding, he told himself as he pressed the button for the workshop. It was just giving Steve the chance to get used to being back without Tony hanging around.

He wondered, as he stepped inside, whether Steve had gone back to their room.

He managed to get exactly three hours to himself before the door swung open and Clint wandered in, hands shoved into the pockets of his purple jeans. He was shirtless, hair a wet mess, and heavily bandaged around his torso and right shoulder. What wasn’t bandaged was bruised or scraped. There was no doubt that the flesh under his jeans was in a similarly sorry state. Tony frowned at him.

“I know. You missed me,” Clint said before he could say a word. He was smiling, though tiredly.

“The hell are you doing down here, Barton? Go to bed.”

Clint shrugged, walking right through the holograms. “Phil had to go to SHIELD and help deal with all the riffraff we dragged in with us. Natasha is in her room. When I knocked on the door, she yelled something about a five hour bath and threw a knife at the door. I decided to take that as a hint.”

In spite of himself, Tony smiled. “Subtlety isn’t lost on you,” he said. “That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing down here.”

“Doesn’t it? I haven’t slept in a bed by myself for like three years, Stark.”

“I heard Thor’s bed is always open for visitors.”

“Thor doesn’t cuddle with me like you do.”

“First of all, I don’t cuddle. Second of all, Thor is the cuddliest avenger to ever cuddle and you damn well know it.”

Clint’s mouth quirked. “I won’t disagree, but that still doesn’t change the fact that I’m in the mood for a Tony hug, not a Thor hug.” He came closer, circling around Tony slowly, and moved up behind him. He carefully leaned his weight against Tony’s back, arms draped down Tony’s chest; he sighed then, long and deep, as though he could finally relax, and went limp. 

He was heavy, though, and after a minute Tony squirmed. “Are these my options? Go to bed with you, or be squished?”

“Yep.”

“Fine. JARVIS, save everything,” Tony said, giving in to the inevitable. Clint was a lot of things, and a grade A pest was high on the list. Sam had once likened him to a three-year-old when he didn’t get his way, and honestly Tony couldn’t say that wasn’t a fair comparison after watching Clint pout about not having a purple uniform.

The result, by the way, was an officially sanctioned black uniform with purple highlights and accents. Never let it be said that the occasional bout of pouting didn’t work.

“Mm, I knew I’d win you over eventually,” Clint mumbled, reluctantly peeling himself off of Tony. He looked almost dazed with exhaustion, the kind of tired where things didn’t feel real anymore, and Tony took him by the arm and lead him out of the workshop. Clint leaned against him again in the elevator. 

“Missed you,” he said softly, and something deep inside Tony’s chest squeezed tight.

He had to clear his throat before he could say, “I missed you too. Phil makes me wear pants.”

Clint started laughing and didn’t stop even when Tony toted him into the bedroom. He pushed gently and Clint landed, still laughing, amongst the pillows. Only then did he stop, trailing off, eyes still wide and bright right up until they fluttered shut. He started snoring then, and Tony rolled his eyes. Why was he giving up the nice, quiet workshop to sleep here again?

He stripped down to his boxers and crawled under the covers. Clint rolled towards him automatically, clingy as always, wrapping Tony up in an embrace. This was why Tony inevitably ended up in the middle: Phil tended to roll around a lot and had trouble sleeping sometimes (though all of them had their fair share of nightmares), and when Natasha was there she didn’t like to be touched too much. So it fell to Tony to be the equivalent of a teddy bear; there were mornings when he woke up so entangled in Clint that they couldn’t move without waking the other.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable way to sleep though. Tony fell asleep quickly and remembered vaguely waking up at some point when the mattress sank beside him. The next thing he felt was Phil’s hand in his hair, and then he heard Phil and Clint murmuring to each other. It was the low, intimate kind of talk that lovers exchanged, and Tony’s awkwardness level increased in spades; he ducked his head and curled in towards Clint, pretending to be asleep until he passed out again.

Come morning, he woke again to find that he was, predictably, in the middle. Phil was lying with his back to Tony. Clint was on his belly, one arm draped across Tony's midsection. There was just enough space for Tony to scoot to the bottom of the bed and stand up without waking either one of them. He rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the door, intending on giving them the chance to wake up alone.

He really should’ve asked JARVIS if anyone was in the hall before opening the door and coming face to face with Steve.

“Oh,” Steve said, stopping short at the sight of him. He looked Tony up and down, and then his eyes flicked over Tony’s shoulder, and that’s when his whole face changed: his mouth tightened, eyes filling up with hurt, as he jumped to the obvious conclusion.

“No. No, Steve, it’s not what you think,” Tony said quickly, pushing down the stupid urge to put his hands over his chest, as though that would make a difference. “I’m not – it’s not like that. I fell asleep with Clint last night and Phil climbed in when he got back home. That’s it.” The last thing he wanted was Steve thinking that Tony had cheated on him. He was not that kind of person.

“I see,” Steve said, not looking entirely convinced, but also not certain Tony was lying: there was a reason that puppy piles were an official notation in the file that SHIELD had on the Avengers. At one time or another, pretty much all of them had fallen asleep on each other. One of Tony’s most terrifying memories was waking up to find his head in Natasha’s lap and his feet in Bucky’s. To this day, he wasn’t sure how he escaped that situation without being stabbed.

“I mean, come on. You know what I’m like. Would Phil and Clint ever want me?” Tony said, trying for a smile, waving a hand at himself. He was still wearing only his boxers, which probably didn’t improve Steve’s perception of the situation.

Steve’s frown deepened. He never did like it when Tony talked down about himself, no matter how honest Tony was being. He said, “They would be lucky to have you. Tony, can we talk?”

“Talk?” Tony repeated, with the dawning horror of the doomed, torn between backing up into the safety of the room and taking off down the hallway. The problem was, neither one would deter Steve.

“Yeah. You know, that thing people do?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t do break-up talks,” Tony said. His chest, right behind the arc reactor, ached. At that moment, he wanted so badly to step forward and hug Steve, feel Steve’s arms come around him, feel like he was home again. In the early morning light, with Steve standing here so big and familiar and _god_ Tony still loved him so much, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep himself from folding if Steve looked at him and asked him to reconsider.

Steve sighed, that quiet little sound he made when someone was disappointing him. “I just want to make sure that everything is going to be okay between us.”

That sounded suspiciously like… “Wait, are you giving me the ‘we can still be friends’ talk?”

“… Yes?” Steve said after an uncertain pause, squinting at him. “I mean, we’re still on the team, Tony. I don’t want things to be awkward. The team has to be our first priority. And yes, okay, even before we got together, you were one of my best friends. I don’t want to lose you just because we’re not together anymore.”

Tony just stared at him for a moment. Everything Steve was saying made sense, but it _hurt_. Apparently what they’d shared didn’t mean that much to Steve, if Steve could stand here and say this so easily. There was no way Tony would’ve been able to get those words out; he was still way too raw. He swallowed hard, suddenly doubting every time Steve had ever said that he loved him. Were they ever more than just friends with benefits? Maybe Tony was the only one who ever really felt anything.

It took effort to collect himself to the point where he could force something resembling a smile onto his face. “Sure, Steve. That makes sense.”

“Are you sure? Tony, I just want –” Steve reached out to him, and Tony lurched backwards so fast he clipped his elbow against the doorframe. The throbbing pain radiating up and down his arm turned his head numb, and he gritted his teeth.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m really sure. We can be friends. Great friends,” Tony said, and now he was probably baring his teeth more than he was smiling, but it was the best he could manage. 

Steve was frowning again. “Okay. Because… because Sam said it was important to – I mean, you have the right to do whatever you want obviously – but I don’t –”

“I have to go,” Tony interrupted him. He was already halfway into the bedroom, so he took the quickest route and shut the door in Steve’s face. It was far from the rudest thing that he’d ever done to Steve, but it still made Tony feel like complete shit. He leaned against the door and slid slowly to the floor, holding his aching arm in his lap. The familiar panic was back, curling up through his chest like poisonous smoke.

“Hey, don’t do this. You’re okay, babe.” Clint’s voice was quiet and soothing; he dropped down to the floor in front of Tony, arms outstretched, not quite touching, and Tony made a choked sound. He wanted the hug, but he wasn’t sure he deserved it after that monumental fuck up.

“Stupid,” Tony said shakily, flexing his fingers on his arm. “I d-don’t… did he ever love me, Clint?”

“Oh, baby.” Clint’s face crumbled. He scooted forward, pulling Tony into a loose hug that Tony could escape if he wanted to, but that was the last thing Tony wanted. He dropped his forehead onto Clint’s shoulder and shook all over, so hard his teeth clicked.

A familiar hand settled onto Tony’s back: Phil. He settled down behind Tony and hugged him from the back, so that Tony was trapped between them. It felt so good. Tony bit his tongue against the urge to cry. He thought maybe the best part of all was that neither one of them tried to convince him that Steve had loved him; they just sat there and stayed with him until JARVIS apologetically interrupted to say that Tony was late for an urgent meeting.

It got a little better after that. Kind of. There was suddenly a Steve-shaped hole in Tony’s life, just like there had been a Pepper-sized hole, and that was the hardest kind of hole to fill. He went to the meetings that Pepper scheduled for him. He came home and spent time with the rest of the team, and even Bucky and Sam when Steve was otherwise occupied. Every night he slept with Phil and Clint, though with an increasing amount of SHIELD missions it was more than frequently one or the other than both.

It wasn’t great, but it was okay. Tony knew, though no one said anything, that the whole team had been a little concerned about how their first post-break-up mission would go. He was determined that it would go perfectly. And it did. It was easier, on the field, not to think about Tony and Steve, but just to be Iron Man and Captain America, focused on saving the world. 

Then Pepper had to go and ruin it all.

There was a meeting. A very important, absolutely could not be missed kind of meeting. And Pepper wanted to make sure that, come hell or high water, Tony was going to show up on time. So she came to the tower personally to make sure that he was ready. When she asked, JARVIS, as he was programmed to do, told her where Tony was, and she ended up opening the door to the bedroom where Tony was sleeping cuddled up between Clint and Phil.

The sound of Pepper’s shocked and mildly scandalized “Tony?!” was a really rude way to wake up.

“What?” Tony mumbled, flailing awake. A half-asleep Phil dodged one of his hands; Clint wasn’t so lucky, and came awake after a slap to the face. 

Pepper stared at the bed, the color high in her face. She recovered quickly though, and hissed, “Did you forget about the board meeting? Tony, you promised me _three times_ that you would come!”

“I don’t remember this,” Tony said, rubbing his eyes.

“I do,” Phil said, because he was a traitor like that. “Good morning, Pepper.”

“Phil.” Pepper nodded, still red in the cheeks. “Clint.”

Clint waved at her. “Hey Pepper,” he said, voice slurred from both sleep and the fact that he wasn’t wearing his hearing aids, and rolled over. Immediately, he started to snore. Tony might have hated him a little.

“Tony,” Pepper said, and she was rapidly descending into the kind of mood that was hell on Tony’s bank account. He regrettably scooted to the bottom of the bed and stood up, unable to keep from casting a regretful look back at the nice, warm bed. Phil smiled at him and laid back down and shut his eyes, but he didn’t close the gap between him and Clint.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Tony muttered when Pepper shifted impatiently, and followed her out of the room. The lights of the hallway were hell on his eyes, and he whined when he realized that it was only 4am.

“You’ve got only yourself to blame,” Pepper said tartly. “You were the one who said you didn’t want to fly to Canada the night before. Well, that means we have to leave by 5am to make the meeting at 8am.”

And now Tony remembered this conversation, kind of. That didn’t stop him from pouting. “JARVIS, next time schedule the meeting later,” he said as he entered his – their – his room.

It wasn’t _their_ room, not anymore, because Steve had moved out. It wasn’t really Tony’s room either, though, because he never slept here. He actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d come in here for a reason other than getting dressed, but apparently even some of his clothing had migrated. He pulled one of his dresser drawers open and realized that he had next to no clean underwear in here. 

“Are you…” Pepper started, and then stopped.

“Am I what?” Tony poked around at the couple pairs of old, worn boxers and ultimately decided to go commando.

“You were… are you dating Clint and Phil?”

“What?” Tony stared.

“People who aren’t dating don’t usually sleep together, Tony.”

“Puppy piles, Pep.”

“That was more than a puppy pile,” she said, very gently. 

Tony frowned. “They like it when I sleep there,” he said, but he heard the doubt in his own voice. No one had acted like it was weird. Except for Steve’s reaction that one morning Tony didn’t like to think about, everyone acted like it was normal that Tony would go to bed with Phil and Clint. Like it was a fact of life: Bruce loved tea, Thor and Jane had really loud sex, and Tony slept with Clint and Phil. He looked up at Pepper.

Her smile was kind. “I’m sure they do. But have you thought about why they like it?”

“They’re my friends?”

“Tony.”

“No. Not before you brought it up.” He couldn’t help throwing it at her like an accusation, and her smile instantly transformed into a scowl.

“Look. You were miserable with Steve. Don’t try to deny it; those last couple months with Steve, it was like you weren’t even dating anymore. I saw your break-up coming from a mile away.” Pepper folded her arms under her breasts. Normally Tony liked that, liked watching the way it pushed her breasts up, which usually just made her even more aggravated. Today, he looked away.

“You could’ve warned me.”

“Would you have believed me?” she countered. “I’m not trying to start a fight. I just – you’ve been hurt a lot.” Her voice softened, eyes big with remembered pain and regret. “Sometimes on purpose, sometimes by accident, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot when it comes to a broken heart. I just want you to go into this with your eyes wide open.”

“I don’t know that there’s anything to open my eyes to,” Tony said honestly. “We’re just friends.”

“Okay,” she said simply. “Do they know that?”

“I…”

Sensing a weakness, she pushed. “Do _you_ know that? Can you honestly tell me you’ve never thought about kissing one of them? Or both?”

Tony would deny it until his dying day, but he flushed tellingly.

“It’s not a bad thing, Tony.”

“It’s weird,” he said to her feet. “Besides… I don’t want…”

“That?”

“They hug me,” he muttered. “I don’t want it to be like it was with Steve. He never hugged me anymore.” The words came out stiff with mortification. Tony couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. But it was the truth. The team was more affectionate with each other than most as a general rule, but Clint and Phil were always touching Tony in some way. Hands in his hair or on his shoulders or back, cuddling on the couch, thighs brushing at the dinner table, sleeping together. Even a playful half-hug in the morning at the breakfast table could brighten Tony’s whole day, and he dreaded the day it would stop.

“Oh, Tony.” Pepper went all tender around the edges, and he couldn’t have pushed her away for anything when she drew him into a hug. She was soft and warm and smelled like his favorite perfume, and she was so strong, strong enough for him to lean on.

“They wouldn’t want me,” he said into the shoulder of her suit. “And besides, I wouldn’t want to come between them.”

Pepper sighed, her breath ruffling his hair. “We have to go to this meeting. But I’m setting up a time for you to talk to Rhodey when we come back.”

“Rhodey? Why?”

“You remember that time that he was hanging out a lot with Carol and Jessica?”

Tony nodded. Pepper waited. The inevitable conclusion clicked together in Tony’s head, and he drew back to stare at her.

“What? Really? Both of them? At the same time ?”

“Yes. And it wasn’t just sex, before you ask. I wondered if you’d ever put the pieces together. I guess that’s my answer.” She smoothed his hair down, somehow always able to get it to lay just so. “Get dressed, okay? We need to go.”

He did as she’d asked, quickly jumping into a suit and following her down to the car. Happy was waiting to take them to the airport. What followed next was something Tony would rather forget: the flight wasn’t too bad, but the meeting was agonizing. Literal hours spent arguing about the terms of a contract had never been Tony’s forté, but it seemed especially aggravating right now.

Though it would always be fun watching Pepper hit her limit and then slowly, systematically destroy idiots without once losing her polite smile.

When the meeting was finally finished, all Tony wanted to do was head home and hide in the workshop for a while. But he was fully expecting that the flight home would be filled with more conversation; he and Pepper might have won the battle, but the war far from over, and they had a lot of stuff to go over in excruciating detail. He was surprised when the car pulled up at the airport and Pepper leaned over to kiss his cheek instead of getting out.

“I’m taking a couple days for vacation,” she said. “Happy’s idea. We figured we might as well make the one trip count.”

“I could send you just about anywhere in the world, you know.”

“I know. Turns out this is where we want to be. Have a good flight back.”

That was as clear of a dismissal as anything, so Tony got out and watched as the car promptly drove away without him. At least that was something of a reprieve. He turned around to the walk to the plane and nearly ran straight into someone; he stopped just in time, nose inches away from the red fabric of that person’s shirt, and heard a familiar laugh.

“You missed me that much?”

“Rhodey!” Tony shouted, immediately throwing his arms around his friend. Rhodey laughed again and hugged him back just as enthusiastically. 

“Hey Tones. How are you doing?” Rhodey looked him over critically and didn’t even try to pretend that he wasn’t, even going so far as to pinch Tony’s side. “Hmm, you look a lot more well rested and fed than I was expecting. Last time you had a break up this bad, I practically had to break down the door just to get you to eat something more substantial than a smoothie.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve been getting my sleep. At least six hours a night three or four times a week,” Tony said haughtily. For anyone else, that would’ve been pathetic. For Tony, it was nothing short of amazing.

Rhodey raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, really. And I’ve been eating at least one or two meals a day, too,” Tony said. It sounded strange. Back when he and Steve first started dating, they’d spent as much time together as possible. As things between them started to deteriorate, Tony had fallen back into his old habits of not eating or sleeping when he was in the middle of a workshop inventing binge. 

Even back then, that was usually when Clint would come coax him out of the workshop with the excuse that he didn't like to sleep in an empty bed, or Phil would sit down at movie night with Tony's favorite snack foods in hand. He'd never really thought about it like that before. He frowned at himself. Why hadn't he noticed that before? What did it mean?

"So you're okay, then?" Rhodey asked, slipping an arm around his shoulders as they started to walk back towards the jet. Tony glanced up at him, drawn out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. Kinda."

"Kinda doesn't fill me with confidence."

Tony shrugged. "I broke up with Captain America. What more do you want?"

"You broke up with Steve Rogers, and for good reason from what you said. Has he said anything to you?"

"Nope," Tony said, maybe a little too quickly, but honestly he didn't want to see Rhodey breaking his head against Steve's face and that's exactly what would happen if Tony told him about the 'let's just be friends' talk. Rhodey gave him a suspicious look, to which Tony looked back with his best innocent expression.

Stalemate.

"Pepper said you needed to talk about Phil and Clint," Rhodey said slowly. "What exactly have I missed?"

"Nothing that I'm aware of."

"You're oblivious, so..."

"I am not!"

"Tony, you didn't even know that Carol, Jess and I were dating each other," Rhodey said. Tony sputtered, and he smirked. "Yeah, Pepper let the cat out of the bag."

"I am surrounded by gossips," Tony said with as much dignity as he could manage, which wasn't much.

"No, you're surrounded by people who love you and want you to be happy. There's a big difference." Rhodey sat down, absently strapping himself in. "You've never dated more than one person at a time, have you?"

"I'll have you know I've had plenty of sex -"

" _Dating_ , Tones, not sex."

Tony went quiet, eventually mumbling, "Even if I wanted to, I can't even date one person at a time, much less two."

Rhodey sighed. "Number one, that's not true. Number two, let's talk about thing called polyamory."


	3. Chapter 3

The talk with Rhodey was enlightening. Sort of. It made sense in a logistical way. But Tony had trouble seeing how it related to _him_. He wasn’t bothered by the thought of dating two people at the same time. If anything, it actually sounded kind of nice to have that additional support. But past experience had already proven that Tony couldn’t handle a relationship with just one person, so being in a relationship with two was just double the opportunity to crash and burn.

Rhodey looked at him for a long time after Tony pointed that out. His eyes were very sad. Uncomfortable, Tony dropped his gaze and looked out the window. The approaching New York skyline was beautiful at night. It was a sight he’d seen frequently, but he pretended to be mesmerized just to avoid having to look back at his best friend. He’d said something wrong and he wasn’t sure how to fix it.

Finally, Rhodey sighed and leaned over to wrap an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “Tones, listen to me,” he said seriously. “It takes more than one person to break up a relationship. I know for a fact that what happened with Pepper was not exclusively your fault, and I’m guessing that the same goes for Steve. You’re a good person.”

“Rhodey –”

“Shh, let me finish. Yes, you can be kind of oblivious and you don’t take care of yourself the way you should. You’re reckless and impulsive and you don’t think before you speak –”

“This is making me feel _so_ much better –”

“But,” Rhodey said loudly, “you’re also thoughtful and sweet and you try harder than anyone else I’ve ever known. No one is without their faults, Tony. I admit that yours might be a little more explosive than most, but that’s not a bad thing. And it certainly doesn’t mean you have to be alone. If you want this, and you have to want it, there’s a way to make it work.”

“They wouldn’t want me,” Tony said. 

“You don’t know that. You haven’t asked.”

“They _shouldn’t_ want me, then,” he corrected. “I don’t want to come between them.” And I’m no good, he didn’t add. He didn’t want to poison something that was good.

“If you do it right, with lots of communication, that won’t happen. Look, I’m not saying it won’t take a ton of effort. Relationships do, especially when you add in an extra person. But did you ever stop to think that maybe you could add something to it, instead of detracting from it?”

Tony just looked at him.

Rhodey’s smile was kind, if somewhat pained. “Of course you haven’t. Ask yourself if you want this. If you do, talk to them.” He squeezed Tony’s shoulder.

But that had the potential to ruin everything. Tony liked things the way they were. Sure, it stung a little when Phil and Clint slipped off to spend time alone. And sometimes he felt like an awkward intruder when it came to sleeping in their bed every night. And, okay, once or twice he had wondered what it would feel like to kiss Clint, or cuddle naked with Phil so that their skin was touching everywhere. And he might have had a dream once (fine, twice – three times max) about the three of them together.

That didn’t mean the risk was worth it. His track record wasn’t exactly stellar here. And assuming that Phil and Clint even wanted him, which he had no idea why they would, he wasn’t sure this was the right step. Rhodey’s explanation about polyamory and how it could work made sense, but Tony had always been the one to push and break the rules. Maybe it was just better to keep things as they were – and maybe withdraw, just a little, before someone else got the wrong idea.

But as the jet landed atop Avengers Tower, Tony realized it was too late for that. It was pretty much impossible to miss the two men standing outside waiting; Clint was in boxers and a t-shirt that had probably been Phil's at one point, and Phil in sweatpants and another t-shirt. Clint's arm was around Phil's shoulders and they looked so comfortable together that Tony simultaneously wanted to run to them and away from them. 

Doing nothing seemed like the safest bet. Unfortunately, Rhodey was not prepared to let that happen. He practically picked Tony up and carried him off the jet, ignoring Tony's vehement protests. The pilot watched this with a raised eyebrow, but knew enough not to interfere even when Tony shook a fist in his direction. It was with a rising sense of defeat that Tony gave up and let Rhodey drag him outside.

Less than a minute later, Rhodey was depositing him in front of Phil and saying, with a cheeky grin, “I think this is yours.”

“Not yet,” Clint said, and he smiled, but there was something uncertain about it. “But thanks.”

“No problem. Tones, call me tomorrow, okay?” Rhodey waited until Tony actually looked up at him and nodded before he went, heading across the roof at a quick jog. He disappeared into the tower all too quickly, leaving Tony alone with Phil and Clint. The awkward silence made his stomach churn. It was starting already.

He was shocked when Phil made the first move, pulling Tony into a warm hug like nothing was different. “Welcome back,” he said into Tony’s ear, and Tony caught a whiff of cinnamon and apples. “How did the meeting go?”

“About as well as could be expected,” Tony said, barely getting the chance to hug him back before Phil was stepping back and Clint took his place, yanking Tony in. Clint’s hugs always left him a little breathless. It wasn’t because Clint didn’t know his own strength, but because he seemed to delight in squeezing Tony just a little harder than everyone else. 

“We missed you,” Clint said, loud enough for Phil to hear, and Phil smiled in agreement.

“I, um,” Tony muttered lamely. He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, but he did know that he never wanted this moment to end. Unfortunately, it did.

“I think,” Phil said, kind to the end, “that we should talk. How about some coffee?”

“You read my mind,” Tony said, pathetically grateful. You could pay millions of dollars for a jet and employ the best and you _still_ got shitty coffee. It was even better when Clint causally took his hand, swinging their arms gently as Phil led the way inside.

The kitchen was conspicuously (and suspiciously, as far as Tony was concerned) empty. He and Clint sat at the table, hands still linked, while Phil bustled around getting the coffee ready. He knew exactly how Tony liked it when he was tired: a little milk and two teaspoons of sugar, but the milk had to be added before the coffee. Tony watched him make it just right and it _hurt_ , deep inside.

“Stop it, Tony.”

Tony blinked and looked at Clint. “What?”

“I know what you’re thinking. I thought it too, back when I started dating Phil. That’s the ‘I’m not good enough to have this’ face, combined with an _un_ healthy dose of ‘I want to run away before I do something to ruin this’. Stop it.” Clint wasn’t smiling anymore.

“What is this?” Tony said, because he had to know.

“This is whatever we want it to be.” Phil set the mugs down on the table and took a seat across from them. He cupped his mug for warmth. “We like you. Clint’s in love with you. I’m getting there, when you let me. We’d like you to be part of our relationship if that’s something that you want too.”

The world spun. Tony took a shaky sip of his coffee. The familiar taste helped. “I don’t exactly have a great track record with relationships.”

“You’ve been doing just fine,” Phil pointed out.

“That wasn’t –”

“Yes it was,” Clint countered, too fast, like he’d been waiting for the opportunity. “It definitely was. I know I don’t want anything else from you than what you’ve been effortlessly giving for the past six weeks. I mean, a kiss would be nice and I wouldn’t turn down the chance to have sex with you, but if this is all I could ever have it would make me happy. Really happy.”

“I’m not enough,” Tony said, the words spilling out. It was probably the most honest he’d been in years. “I’ve never been enough. I want too much.”

Phil sipped his coffee in a very violent, if restrained, way. “Tony, you’re enough for us.”

And yeah, Tony had been waiting his whole life to hear some variation of that but actually hearing it was a shock. “I’ll ruin it.”

“Maybe I’ll be one who ruins it. Or Phil. Ever think of that?” Clint said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah right. You guys are perfect.”

Clint threw his head back and laughed humorlessly.

“Perfection is only what you see on the outside. You don’t see the work we put into our relationship, or how we started,” Phil said, leaning forward and setting a hand on Clint's shoulder. “It was a bumpy start, to give you a hint.”

“To say the least,” Clint said. "Look, if this isn't something you want, you don't have to let us down gently. Don't dance around it. Just say it." He looked at Tony expectantly, fully prepared to be rejected. Ready to face it head on, and either Clint Barton was the bravest man that Tony knew or - yeah, there was no 'or'.

And the thing was, even though Tony knew it would be for the best to cut this off at the pass, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Because talking to Rhodey and Pepper over the past day had proven one thing above all else: Tony really did want this. He wanted to be a part of what Clint and Phil had, even if he had to watch it all crash and burn later on - even if it would just mean losing them just like he'd lost Pepper and Steve.

"Yes," Tony whispered. It may have been the hardest word he'd ever said.

Phil dropped his mug in surprise. The sound of the ceramic shattering had them all jumping. Clint in particular winced and his hands flew up to adjust his hearing aids as Phil, swearing, got up and went to go get a cloth. Noticing that Clint seemed to be having trouble, Tony stood up and took a step closer to him. He made sure that Clint could see him before he pointed to the hearing aids and raised an eyebrow.

Looking a little sheepish, Clint removed them and offered them to Tony on the palm of his hand. "I might have been wearing them when Nat decided to slam me into the mats," he said, just a little too loud. "The right one hasn't worked properly since."

"Then you should've come to me sooner," Tony said, uncertain as to whether he was more annoyed that his tech had broken or that he hadn't noticed before now. He'd was about to leave and head down to the workshop so that he could get his tools, but Clint's hand wrapped around his wrist before he could move. Tony looked down at him, suddenly twice as nervous as before.

"Yes?" Clint said, watching him closely.

Right. All of Tony's nerves returned in a rush. He nodded, unable to voice the word a second time. The most amazing smile he'd ever seen spread across Clint's face. Clint stood up, leaning into him, and they'd been way closer before but this felt different. Tony's heart was pounding. He'd always thought Clint was an attractive man, but it was really hard not to notice just how attractive right now.

" _I love you_ ," Clint said, signing the words at the same time. He ended with a flourish, tapping Tony's chest, as though to make sure that Tony couldn't mistake who he was talking about. For a man who, moments before, had been fully ready for a rejection, he spoke fearlessly.

"You're making a mistake," Tony croaked. 

Clint frowned, cocking his head.

"You shouldn't love me," Tony told him.

Again, Clint frowned, looking puzzled.

"I couldn't even keep it together with Captain America. This will turn into a huge mistake."

Clint widened his eyes comically. He shrugged dramatically.

"He's fucking with you," Phil said right before his arms slid around Tony's waist. Tony tensed, but just as quickly he relaxed; his body had grown used to the feeling of Phil tucked securely around him. He ran Phil's words over in his mind and scowled.

"Wait, you asshole!"

This time, Clint's laughter was real. So was Phil's. Tony found it hard to keep scowling, especially when Phil gave him a squeeze.

"Tony, you and Steve wanted different things. There's nothing wrong with that. From what I understand, you did nothing wrong. It could have happened to anyone," said Phil.

"But it happened to me," Tony said, and he might have sounded a little whiny.

"It did, and I'm sorry about that. I know it hurts." Phil hugged him a little tighter. "But that doesn't mean you can't make it work with someone else. Clint and I are not perfect. You need to stop thinking that way. No one is perfect, least of all people like us." He sighed, hunching a little so that he could set his chin on Tony's shoulder. "We're all fucked up in our own special ways. Clint and I are going to hurt you, and you're going to hurt us, because Clint and I have hurt each other before. That's part of being in a relationship.

"But if you're willing to talk to us and care for us and _not_ run away, then you work through it. You talk. You cry. You forgive. You have to be willing to commit to the fact that you don’t want it to end. Every relationship has ups and downs, but if you want it and, and you have to want it, then it can work.”

Tony digested this. Clint kept his distance. From the small smile on his face, he knew exactly what was being said and he was willing to wait for Phil to talk Tony through it.

"Do you think I ran away from Steve?" Tony asked finally.

"No. I think there was a point when you and Steve could have worked things out, but it would've required a lot of effort on both your parts and maybe the timing just wasn't right. There's no shame in admitting that you aren't ready for something, or that you can't handle it. Or maybe it would never have worked and you would’ve always ended up this way. But ideally, you'd communicate those things before you got to that point."

"Why am I sensing a lot of talking in the near future?" Tony muttered.

Phil chuckled, nuzzling his nose into Tony's jaw. "You love to hear yourself talk."

That was true; Tony was used to the sound of his own voice. But it would something new to talk and actually mean what he was saying. To not use words as something to hide behind, but to actually communicate. He wasn't sure he'd ever done that before. Honestly, he wasn't even sure he knew how. This had disaster written all over it.

Before he could second-guess himself too much, Clint approached and hugged Tony from the front so that he was trapped between them. Well, not trapped. Tony could've escaped easily if he wanted to - they would've let him go if he needed it. Maybe that's what made the embrace so very comforting.

"You're an idiot," Clint said. He kissed Phil over Tony's shoulder, then turned his head a little. An invitation. Tony licked his lips and then, hesitantly, took it, letting their mouths drift together slowly. Clint tasted like orange juice and coffee, and he was much gentler than Tony would've expected. 

It was hard to kiss with Clint grinning like an idiot, though, and finally Tony broke away and looked over his shoulder at Phil. He puckered his lips obnoxiously just to make Phil laugh, which worked, though Phil also rolled his eyes as he leaned forward and kissed Tony too. The chaste, languid kiss was more than enough to set off a slow buzz under Tony's skin.

“Good?” Clint said into his ear.

Rather than answer, Tony nodded so that Clint could feel the movement of his head. He was shaking a little, much to his embarrassment, but then again Phil was too. Maybe Tony wasn’t the only one facing something new and uncertain, and that was a very comforting thought indeed.

Nothing else happened that night. Phil finished cleaning up the mess and then all three of them went to bed. It was different settling down between Phil and Clint, knowing that perhaps there was a place here for him, if he wanted it. Clint kissed Phil goodnight and then, for the first time, he kissed Tony goodnight too, before he rolled over and went limp with a satisfied sigh.

“You’re like a cat,” Tony told his back, and felt Phil shaking against him with laughter.

Outwardly nothing changed; they were already affectionate in public, Tony just had to remember not to kiss either one of them. He said nothing to Bruce, needing more time to navigate the change before anyone else found out. Natasha knew, of course, because she was Natasha. Tony thought Clint might have said something, but it was entirely possible she noticed the awkwardness between the three of them that had never been there before. She pulled Tony aside one morning two weeks later and didn’t say a word, just looked at him, before smiling.

“You’re good for them,” she said simply, and then, “Congratulations, Antoshka.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, swallowing. Her approval meant a lot. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Natasha laughed. “I don’t think I’m the right person to ask because I’ve never dated anyone, but I’m pretty sure all relationships are like that.”

“Maybe,” he said, unconvinced. He hadn’t realized that entering into a relationship with Phil and Clint would mean Clint always asking before he touched Tony, instead of the easy camaraderie they’d shared before. There was a story there, he suspected, and not a happy one. Or that Phil would insist on quite so much talking. Like, a _lot_ of talking. Apparently he had not been kidding.

Her expression softened. “Are you okay?”

“I think so?”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I listen a lot,” Tony said. It was true, but – “And I’m… learning. To talk.”

It was an easy opening for a sarcastic comment, and Tony had never loved Natasha more than when she gracefully sidestepped it and just said, “That’s good. Clint and Phil are good people to talk to. Frankly, at this point I’m not sure anything could shock Phil.”

“He already knows most of it from our files,” Tony pointed out. Maybe that’s why it was easier. It was still hard, and he was always left feeling uneasy, wracked with uncertainty that any word might be enough to turn them away. It was something he’d never got over with Steve. But in retrospect, he and Steve had never really talked about the ghosts or shadows of their pasts. And with Pepper, there was too much that Tony didn’t want to share, things that Pepper didn’t have to know.

But Tony could look at Clint, and he could say that he’d killed people. He could look at Phil, and he could admit that there were times in his twenties and thirties when he hadn’t wanted to know what his weapons were doing. He could look at them both and tell them that he didn’t like having the arc reactor touched, that it was a trigger, though he hadn’t used that word. He thought that might be progress. 

“Yeah,” Natasha said, and she sighed. Much to Tony’s surprise, she leaned into him. Very cautiously, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She was warm and her hair smelled like oranges.

“We miss you in bed,” he said.

She laughed into his chest. “I’ll take that as an invitation for tonight. Keep in mind, I don’t appreciate dicks.”

Tony snorted. “Then you’re safe. There’s been no dicks out,” he said a little sadly.

“Give it time,” Natasha muttered, but she was smiling. “Phil’s been dreaming about fucking you for like the past three months.” 

He had no answer for that, but he did have to angle his hips away from her a little bit more. She laughed again, because she was evil like that. Before he could cobble together a response, Steve and Bucky came out of the kitchen dressed in their sparring clothes. Bucky, brave idiot that he was, caught the tip of Natasha’s ponytail and gave it a gentle tug, raising his eyebrow in unspoken question. Natasha nodded but stayed with Tony for a moment, watching them walk away. 

“Steve still watches you,” she whispered.

“I know.” It was hard not to notice, when Tony’s skin still tingled whenever he felt the weight of Steve’s gaze on him. He was trying to ignore it, but that was easier said than done when a part of him still wanted Steve. 

Her eyes, when she looked at him, were very serious. “Don’t hurt anyone, Tony.”

“I’m trying not to,” Tony muttered, more to himself than to anyone else because Natasha was already walking away. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling cold. He liked Phil and Clint, maybe even loved them a little. He could see the potential in what they could have. But at the same time, he wanted Steve. Multiple people had called him selfish during the course of his life, but it had never felt quite this terrible.

And Tony tried to ignore it, because he was learning what went beyond the surface of his new partners, and he liked what he found. He discovered that Clint needed hugs after nightmares, but that Phil needed space. That after difficult missions, Clint cranked his hearing aids up so that he wasn’t alone with the silence in his head. That paperwork was Phil’s way of coping.

He learned that Clint was ticklish around his belly and ribs, that he loved white whine, that he could fall asleep with his eyes open. That Phil slept with a gun under the pillow, that he liked orange and chocolate but hated mint and chocolate, that he loved having his back massaged. And, one particularly memorable afternoon, they learned that Tony loved to be touched and had ticklish feet.

It was a building process. It wasn’t the same as coming together with Pepper and Steve, because Phil and Clint already existed. But, surprisingly, there was space. Space for Tony. And yes he was a little – not jealous, exactly, but envious of the intimacy that Phil and Clint already shared. But it got better every day, though. And the first morning that Clint rolled over, half-asleep, and kissed Phil before automatically leaning down to kiss Tony, he thought he’d found a place where he wanted to be.

So maybe he shouldn’t have been that surprised to walk into the bedroom one night and find Clint sitting on the bed stark naked. Tony had seen him naked before, of course – the decontamination showers at SHIELD weren’t big on privacy – but never like this. Clint’s legs were spread and his hand was on his dick and he was moaning. He caught sight of Tony and his eyes went wide, hips stuttering.

“Tony, fuck, sorry –” Clint blurted out, grabbing the covers and yanking them over his lap. 

“I’m not,” Tony said, mind now filled with very interesting images.

“You’re… not?”

The bathroom door opened. Phil stepped out, a towel around his waist. He stopped short, sensing the tension in the room, and looked at the two of them. It was pretty obvious what Clint had been doing, and he frowned. “Clint, we agreed to wait and talk about this first.”

“In my defense, I thought that Tony was watching movies with Thor and Bruce and I sleep with two really hot men, Phil, I’m only human.”

Tony had to smile. “I was. Jane called Thor and they started having a discussion that I really did not want to be a part of. This one, though…” He let his voice trail off, hoping that the hunger he felt would say the rest.

“Are you sure about this?” Phil asked him.

“I am. Are you?”

“Yes,” Clint said instantly.

“I’m clean,” Tony added, because that was one thing they hadn’t covered yet. “I mean, I can show you proof if you want –”

“We believe you,” Phil said, cutting him off. “I’m clean, too. SHIELD makes us get tested every month.”

“I am too,” Clint said, sliding a hand back under the covers. He was looking from Tony to Phil. “Is that – I mean, are you –”

Tony looked at Phil, not wanting to make the first move. Phil was slower to respond, but finally he nodded. He kept the towel knotted around his waist as he walked across the floor, coming to a stop right in front of Tony. He gazed at Tony for a long moment, eyes darkening, before he slowly leaned in. Their kiss was hungry, moreso than any other kiss so far, and it made Tony want more. He hooked his arms around Phil’s waist, sliding his fingers under the towel.

This, at last, was something that he knew how to do.

They made out for long, endless minutes, heat and wet that made Tony’s blood sing in just the right way. Phil’s hands were hot on his skin; Tony let his t-shirt be pulled off and his jeans and boxers be pushed down, thoroughly enjoying the way that Phil instantly grabbed his ass. He remembered what Natasha had said and swayed into the touch, lifting his lips up to Phil’s ears.

“I like being fucked,” he said plainly, just to feel the way that Phil shuddered. “I like it a lot when it’s wet and messy. I’m tight, but I want you to open me up with these fingers…” He caught one of Phil’s hands and brought it up near his face, sucking slowly on a couple of fingers.

Over on the bed, Clint moaned. Tony jumped a little, having almost forgotten Clint was even there. It made him feel immediately terrible, like he was doing it wrong. But when he looked over at Clint, Clint had thrown the covers off. His hand was on his cock and he was stroking himself slowly, eyes locked on Phil and Tony. Experimentally, Tony sucked harder on Phil’s fingers and Clint made another, higher-pitched sound.

“He likes watching,” Phil whispered. “Let’s give him a show.”

Tony was definitely on board with that. Phil backed him up until he hit the wall, perpendicular to Clint, and went down on his knees. It was then that Tony discovered something else about Phil Coulson: the man loved giving head. Like, really loved it. And he was just as skilled in that as he was everything else that he did. 

“Fuck, Phil, baby,” Tony babbled, head hitting the wall. It made him see stars but he couldn’t even think about the pain when Phil’s tongue was sliding around the head of his dick like that. He ended up meeting Clint’s gaze, and the pure lust he saw reflected back at him was almost too much. His stomach curled and his cock throbbed and he hit the wall with a fist, trying to keep from coming too soon.

“Shit, shit, oh god, you’re – fuck, really good at this.”

“Yeah, he is,” Clint said from the bed, and Phil hummed and agreement that made Tony’s toes curl. “God, the first time he went down on me I had to stay quiet because there were other agents in the next room. I almost bit through my tongue.” He punctuated his comment with a twist of his hand that made his back arch, and Tony felt dizzy with arousal because Clint was just that fucking beautiful.

“I, huh,” Tony gasped. Words were a thing but he couldn’t really think well enough to string them together right now. He moaned freely when Phil’s hand came up and cupped his balls, and then Phil was _swallowing_ around his cock. And Tony had had some pretty spectacular blowjobs in his time, but there was nothing quite like looking down at that moment and seeing Phil – Agent Phil Coulson, of all people – looking back up at him, eyes dark and smoldering.

In retrospect, Tony came embarrassingly quickly. At the time, he couldn’t have held back even if Hydra chose that moment to break into the room. His hips jerked and he heard himself making this whining sound; Phil groaned, swallowed everything, and then leaned back enough for Tony to see that his hand was between his thighs, towel discarded on the ground. Tony sank to his knees and kissed him again, and Phil came with the taste of Tony’s lips and come on his mouth.

“Son of a bitch, that was amazing,” Clint said reverently, hand working even more quickly between his legs. 

Tony and Phil shared a look, and they both stood up and made their way towards the bed. Clint whimpered a little when Tony batted his hand away, but then Tony _and_ Phil took him in hand. Watching Clint squirm under their combined touch was better than anything Tony had seen in years, especially when Phil leaned down and started licking at Clint’s nipples. It only took a matter of minutes to push Clint over the edge. 

“Hmm, bitter,” Tony said, tasting the come on his hand. “You need to eat more fruit, Barton.”

“Fucking hell,” Clint muttered, putting a hand over his eyes to block the sight. “I’m not Steve. I can’t get it up again that fast. Stop that.”

Much to his own surprise, Tony just laughed and stretched out beside Clint. He pressed a kiss to Clint’s shoulder. “Does that mean you’re a fan of early morning blowjobs as a way to wake up?”

“Absolutely,” Clint said, and kissed him back. Tony leaned into it, shivering a little. He was pathetically cold now that the excitement was wearing off, and he wanted – he just wanted – 

Phil came back with a washcloth, wiping Clint’s stomach off, and then got into bed on the other side of Tony. He poked and prodded until Tony got the hint, scooting over a little. Within the span of a few seconds, he was comfortably ensconced between the two of them. Clint was pressing little kisses against his cheek and jaw, while Phil was just holding him.

It was absurdly nice, and Tony hated himself for needing it, but little by little the panic was receeding.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Stop apologizing,” Clint said through a yawn. “We’ve been over this. It’s not a bad thing to need aftercare.”

“Is this good?” Phil asked. “What do you need?”

Tony chewed his lower lip, debating, and finally squirmed onto his side. He grabbed Phil’s arm and drew it over his waist, so that Phil was pressed up snugly against his back, then pressed his nose into Clint’s neck. He said, “I liked it when you were drawing shapes on me. I could – it made me focus.”

“I can do that,” Clint said, like it was really that simple, and started to draw shapes on Tony’s hip. 

“Could you talk to me?” Tony whispered to Phil.

“Of course,” Phil murmured, and Tony fell asleep to the feel of Clint’s hands on his skin and the sound of Phil’s voice in his ear.

It turned out that Clint wasn’t lying; Tony woke up first and swallowed Clint down while palming Phil, and he brought them both off before they were even fully awake. They tag-teamed him in the shower, and Tony came so hard he was legitimately dizzy after the fact. Which led to Clint strutting around like a vain peacock, while Phil rolled his eyes at both of them and washed Tony’s hair.

Things were good.

And then, right after breakfast that morning, Steve came up to Tony and said, “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and I think I see where things went wrong. I’m sorry for ignoring you. Do you think we could give it another chance?”


	4. Chapter 4

The silence that fell in the kitchen after Steve's question was remarkable only in that Tony hadn't even known that the team was capable of being that quiet. The only sound was the water running in the sink from where Bruce had been washing off the plates. Tony couldn't think of a single word to say. It was like his brain had crashed. He just stood there and stared dumbly at Steve's hopeful smile, which - bit by bit, as the silence dragged on and Tony failed to come up with an answer - slowly started to disappear.

Finally, Steve broke the silence. "Look, I know I was an idiot. I didn't appreciate you the way you deserved," he said earnestly. "I've never had a relationship before, Tony. I admit that I didn't really know what I was doing, which isn't an excuse. I get that. If you said no, I'd understand." But the frown lines at the corners of his eyes suggested otherwise, and it made Tony's heart ache.

"But you - I don't -" Tony finally got out, and it didn't even sound like his voice, strangled and too high-pitched. "What? How did you – when did you - _what_?"

"Sharon might have yelled at me a few times and pointed out that I was being an idiot," Steve admitted.

That made sense. Sharon had definitely inherited the infamous Carter temper from Peggy. She'd never been shy when she thought about sharing her opinion, and, even though months could go by without Tony getting the chance to talk to her for more than a handful of stolen minutes at a time, she'd always been protective of him. Tony wasn't sure what surprised him more, that all she'd done was yell or that she hadn't turned up on his doorstep to demand more details. Then again, it was possible she'd seen the writing on the wall long before Tony had and guessed what was going to happen before it did. Something else she'd inherited from Peggy.

"She's a spitfire," Tony croaked, and Steve smiled. That smile still took Tony's breath away.

"Yeah. She might've also pointed out that you and I didn't communicate very well, and that maybe I made you feel like I wasn't really listening when you did try to talk to me. And that makes me a hypocrite for accusing you of never listening, because I don't either. But Tony." Steve took a step closer and even reached out and took one of Tony's hands. Tony let him, too shocked to pull away as Steve stared intently into his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I think the biggest one I made was leaving you alone that day. I should have stayed behind so that we could talk. I let everything else get in the way of you and me, when you're the most important person in the world to me. You should have been my first priority from day one. Somewhere along the line, I guess I forgot about that. I couldn't even take the time to give you a hug when you needed one." He looked so genuinely upset in that moment that Tony had to quell his first instinct, which was to reach out and hug him.

"It did upset me," Tony said, because it was the only thing he could think of to say, and Steve nodded.

"I realized that after the fact. I mean, I know I have the right to be busy, but you also have the right to a supportive boyfriend," he added, and those words had Sam written all over them. Apparently Sharon wasn't the only who had been talked to Steve, who continued, "And I'd like to try being that boyfriend, if you're willing to give me another chance. I still love you. Do you...?" He trailed off, looking hopeful again.

Tony's head was spinning. He was very aware of the fact that Phil and Clint were standing or sitting somewhere behind him. Tony had finished with his waffles first, anxious to get down to the workshop and get a head start on the day's work. He'd jumped up while Clint was chasing the last soggy piece of waffle around his plate and Phil was finishing off his second cup of coffee and ignoring his own plate of waffles entirely. Now, he was regretting not having taken an extra few minutes to indulge in a lazy morning breakfast with his boyfriends before this bomb was dropped on his head.

"I don't know." He didn't even realize he'd spoken until he saw Steve's face fall.

"I get it," Steve said, clearly unhappy. "I -"

"You broke my heart, Steve. I mean, really. I felt like I couldn't talk to you for months before we broke up. I felt like I couldn't ask for what I wanted. I used to have a panic attack every time we had sex because I needed aftercare," Tony's mouth said, clearly without the permission of his brain. "I needed you, but you never even noticed. Part of that's on me for not speaking up, but... You gave me the 'we can still be friends' talk. I don't even know if we were anything more than friends with benefits."

"But I did still want to be your friend!" Steve said. "The team -"

"Oh my god, Steve, stop," Bucky said from somewhere behind Tony. "Just stop."

" _Thank_ you," Sam muttered, sounding genuinely pained.

"I can't do this right now. I need to think." Tony pulled his hand away from Steve and forced himself to walk out of the room. Someone - likely Bucky or Sam - stopped Steve from coming after him, and for that Tony would be eternally grateful. Right now, he couldn't look into Steve's beautiful blue eyes without feeling like there was something burning hot clawing through his chest. 

Blindly, he made it down to the workshop, where he sank into his chair and buried his head in his trembling hands. Had that really just happened? Had Steve walked up to him and asked if they could give their relationship another try in front of the whole team? After Tony had spent weeks mourning their relationship? It was like some hideously bad dream, except Tony wasn't going to be waking up from this anytime soon. Why the hell had Steve waited so long and only made a move now, just when Tony would've said he was starting to feel happy again?

The door to the workshop opened. Tony froze, not daring to look up. Even though he'd done nothing wrong, he didn't think he could face Phil or Clint right now. That might just be the straw that broke the camel's back, and there was a terrible irony somewhere in there because they had become his safe space. Whenever Tony was upset or anxious or sad, he could go get a hug from Clint or a cuddle from Phil and immediately feel better. And a little part of him hated Steve for taking that away from him, however temporarily.

A familiar hand dropped down onto his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Are you okay?”

Bruce. Tony twisted, setting his forehead against Bruce’s stomach, both in search of comfort and so that he wouldn’t have to look Bruce in the face just yet. Bruce tensed, but didn’t pull away. He’d come a long way from the days when he avoided any contact whatsoever; now there were days when he’d cuddle with Natasha on the couch, or let Clint wrap an arm around his neck, or accept the friendly clap to the back that Steve gave everyone after a long battle. 

“Why is this happening now?” Tony asked thickly. His eyes were hot, even though he’d sworn to himself that he had cried his last tear over Steve Rogers.

“I don’t know,” Bruce said, very kind. His hand moved to cup the back of Tony’s neck, thick fingers rubbing reassuringly. He was quiet for a moment, letting Tony get himself back under control. 

Something nudged at Tony’s side and he turned his head as far as he could without otherwise moving. He laughed wetly, seeing that Dummy was holding out a scrap of grease-stained cloth. “Thanks Buddy.” He took the cloth, but refrained from wiping his face even though that’s probably what Dummy had in mind. 

“I get that you probably don’t want to talk about it right now, and that’s okay. But you should know that Phil and Clint aren’t angry,” said Bruce.

The words eased the knot in Tony’s stomach and let him breathe easier. “I didn’t think they were,” he lied.

Bruce snorted and let his hand slide away. “Yeah, right. Sure you weren’t.”

Tony straightened up and wiped his eyes with his sleeve before he lifted his head; Bruce’s wry, ‘I don’t believe a word of your shit’ expression made him smile. “You’re so skeptical, Green bean. It hurts.”

“I’ve told you not to call me that.”

“You also told me that you didn’t like chocolate, which was a blatant lie.”

“I don’t like – I am not getting into this argument again.” Bruce shook his head. “I came to ask if you wanted to work on an experiment with me.”

“Always,” Tony said immediately, not even needing to hear the details. Doing science with Bruce was always a blast, but right now he needed the distraction more than ever. He jumped up, patting Dummy absently on the head, and followed Bruce out of the workshop. 

And it worked, for a time. But not even a successful science experiment could last forever, and, while Tony didn’t spend _every_ night with Phil and Clint because he was still a very busy man and there weren’t enough hours in the day, he still found himself missing their bed as the clock crept up on midnight. He jumped when Bruce closed the cabinet door with a satisfied sigh.

“I think that went well, don’t you?” Bruce said.

“Results verified, just as we wanted. It went swimmingly.” Tony heard the word as it came out and wanted to cringe. Swimmingly? Seriously?

Bruce cocked his head, raising an eyebrow, but let the moment pass without comment. “I’m heading up for food and bed. We’ve been down here for fourteen hours.”

“Sure you don’t want to move on to phase II?”

“Tony.”

“Because I just think that doing it while it’s all fresh in our minds –”

“You can’t avoid them forever,” Bruce said gently, having perfected the art of speaking over him years ago.

“I can try.”

“Don’t even try.” Bruce shut the lights off, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered Tony out of the lab.

“I’m honestly torn about this new touchy-feely side of you,” Tony told him.

“That’s just because you’re upset. I’m sure when you’re feeling better, you’ll be your normal clingy self.”

“I’m not clingy,” Tony denied. He heard the laughter before he saw him, and his stomach twisted itself up in fresh knots as Clint stepped around the corner. 

“I think we all beg to differ,” Clint said, grinning and lifting an arm. Bruce gave Tony a gentle push and Tony stumbled forward, not even trying to really stop himself from impacting Clint; the feel of Clint’s arms coming around him was exactly what he needed right now, and he hugged back desperately.

No matter what Steve made him feel, he didn’t want to lose this.

“Good night, guys,” Bruce said, neatly stepping around them and heading for the elevator. The doors closed behind him and Clint sighed.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Rude,” Tony said, but his mouth was muffled by how hard he was holding onto Clint so the impact was probably ruined a little.

“No, just honest. Come on, babe. Someone needs to talk to you.”

“Oh god. It’s not Steve, is it?” Tony said, suddenly regretting just how much speed he’d built into the elevators. 

Clint gave him a wounded look. “What do you take me for? I would never spring Steve on you like that without preparing you first. As it was, he did a great job of that on his own.” He frowned a little and Tony winced.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that he was going to –”

“Whoa, Tony, hey. Don’t apologize. You can’t help the fact that Steve did that. It’s not your fault.”

That was true, but Tony still felt like he needed to apologize anyway. He kept silent only out of respect for the fact that Clint clearly wouldn't want to hear it as they stepped into the elevator together. It rose quickly - too quickly. Tony wasn't sure who he was expecting to see when the doors opened, but it definitely wasn't Sam. He blinked in surprise, staring at Sam with a frown.

"Phil and I will be waiting in the room," Clint said, leaning down and planting a kiss on Tony's cheek. He walked away, leaving Sam and Tony alone.

"I'm sorry," Sam said the moment Clint had turned the corner.

Tony squinted at him. "Uh... what? What could you possibly have to be sorry for?"

"Well for one thing, when Steve said he wanted to talk to you, I didn't think he'd blindside you in front of everyone like that." Sam crossed his arms, frowning. "Apparently we need to do some major work on his timing."

"I'll say to you what Clint just said to me. It wasn't your fault. I know what Steve's like when he gets an idea in his head," Tony said. Boy, did he ever. Most of the time he didn't mind Steve's stubbornness; it could be sweet, like the time that Steve decided to hold a press conference and explain in explicit detail exactly why Tony wasn't the bad guy that the press was making him out to be. Unfortunately, there were also times when it was just super frustrating - like that very press conference which ended with the press thinking that Tony had corrupted Captain America.

"He asked me what I thought he should do. If I'd known that you were dating Coulson and Clint, I wouldn't have told him to approach you."

"We didn't exactly make an announcement. We weren't _not_ telling people, but I think we all needed some time to get used to the idea. Maybe that was a mistake on our part," Tony said slowly. "But I don't blame you for not noticing. For that matter, Steve is the boss. He's the one who should've been paying attention."

Sam finally cracked a smile. "I can't argue with that. Seriously, though. Are you okay?"

"Not really, but I will be."

"Fair enough," Sam said with a nod. He paused for a moment. "Tony, I know it's really none of my business, but for what it's worth I really do think Steve is sorry. He and I have talked a lot about relationships and what you have to be willing to put into one. I'm not making excuses for him, because he was kind of an asshole. He should've done this kind of research before you and he started dating in the first place. But I do think that if you wanted to give it another shot, he would give it his damndest."

"I know that he would," Tony said, because he _did_ know that. "But I really like Clint and Phil." He didn't add the second part of that sentence, which was that he really had no idea what to do at this point, but Sam must have heard it anyway.

"You don't have to make any decisions right away," he said gently. "I would like to know, though. Is it okay if I tell Steve about you guys? I think he deserves to know."

Tony thought about it. Even though he hadn't discussed it with Phil and Clint, he figured that the news was probably going to spread through the rest of the team pretty quickly. It was probably better that Steve heard it from Sam or Bucky, so he nodded. "I guess so. Sure."

"Thanks." Sam glanced over his shoulder. "I should let you go. Bucky's waiting for me, anyway."

"Sam," Tony said.

Sam stopped and turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"Is Steve - is he okay? Is he mad at me?"

Something in Sam's face softened. "No, Tony, he's not mad. Not at you, anyway, or at least not very much. He's mad at himself, I think, more than anything. I told him that it takes two to break up a relationship, but you know what Steve's like. You should be more concerned with yourself. Steve is a strong guy. He loves you, but if you don't want to be with him than that's okay. He'll get over it. You guys will go back to being best friends and teammates. You won't lose him over this, if that's what you're wondering."

That was exactly what Tony needed to hear, and he didn't think it would've mattered nearly as much had it come from anyone but Sam. He nodded a little shakily and walked down the hall, finding that the bedroom door was open. Phil was already in bed, but Clint was pacing back and forth across the room. Both of them looked up when Tony walked into the room, and seeing the identical expressions of fear was both surprising and painful. Did they really think that Tony was going to dump them both just for the chance to get back together with Steve?

"Can we not talk about it tonight?" Tony croaked. It came out more quivery than he'd intended. "I just really want to sleep right now."

"Of course," Phil said, lifting the covers up immediately. Tony scooted across the room, kicked his shoes off and jumped into the bed. He huddled into Phil, relishing the way that Phil's arms wrapped around him. It took a little while, but eventually Clint joined them. 

Sleep, unfortunately, did not come that easily, and Tony was awake for most of the night thinking. He kept remembering back to when he and Steve first made that transition from friends to lovers. It had been so... perfect. They'd fallen together in a way that had actually been kind of terrifying at the time, just because relationships had never been that easy for Tony. He and Pepper had taken years to get together, and that had burnt out in the span of less than two years. He'd been so hopeful that what he and Steve had would last.

In retrospect, he could see where they'd gone wrong. How slowly it had unraveled. And in the end, they weren't really dating so much as they were friends with benefits, no matter what feelings they had for each other. People who were dating actually spent time together, which was something he and Steve hadn't done in those last few months. It was as much Tony's fault as Steve's; they were both busy people, and while Steve hadn't tried, Tony hadn't either. Not until it was really too late, and his paltry efforts had been too little. Honestly, if Tony hadn't chosen that night to break up with Steve, it probably would've happened eventually. 

So the real question was, did he want anything more with Steve? Did he want to take the chance that he and Steve could regroup and have something more? Something better than the lame-ass attempt at a relationship they'd had before? It would take a hell of a lot of work, and Tony didn't think it would be pretty. It would require a lot of talking and sharing, and neither he nor Steve were good at that. It was just so much easier to clam up and keep going on your own. Especially since they'd have to talk about what went wrong before they could get anywhere.

And then there was the question of what that would mean for his current relationship. Tony hadn't been lying; he really did care for Phil and Clint. He thought he might even love the both of them, though he wasn't anywhere near ready to say it out loud. He didn't want to lose what they had. It was still so new, and it had so much potential, and sometimes Tony thought that this could be _it_. How could he give that up for the sake of something that might flame out as quickly as it began?

But this was Steve. How could he give Steve up?

Sometime towards 4am, Tony gave up and sat up. He didn't think Phil or Clint were sleeping, but they gave him the courtesy of pretending they were so that he could slip out of the bed without being questioned. Tony grabbed Phil's bathrobe and threw it on as he headed for the door. He knew exactly where Steve would be: the next level down, which was the gym that Tony had designed especially for the Avengers. Most of the equipment was capable of taking a serious punishment, which was a necessity when you had a supersoldier and a god in residence.

Just as he'd guessed, Steve was currently making use of the gym. He was wailing away on a punching bag, hitting it with punches so hard that the metal was creaking ominously. Bucky was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed and a bored look on his face, but he straightened up when he saw Tony. He didn't say a word, just looked at Tony for several seconds before nodding. Tony nodded back. Seemingly satisfied, Bucky slipped around Steve and past Tony. He actually patted Tony on the shoulder as he left.

"Steve," Tony said, his heart hammering in his ears.

Steve punched the bag once more, hard enough that the reinforced metal strained but - fortunately - didn't break. Then he stopped, shoulders heaving. "What are you doing here, Tony?" he asked, sounding tired. "Shouldn't you be with Clint and Phil?"

Tony winced. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"You didn't have to tell me, but I wish you had," Steve said, turning around. He looked just as tired as he sounded.

"I wish I had too," Tony admitted. It wasn't really fair that Steve had heard the news from Sam. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

Steve followed his gaze down to where red had stained the bandages on his hands. "It'll heal."

"That's not what I asked," Tony muttered, but gave it up for a lost cause. He followed Steve over to the bench, where Steve sank down, yanked his sweat-stained shirt off and grabbed his water bottle. He drank deeply. Tony took in the sight of his upper torso and swallowed, but forced himself to look away. This was hardly the time.

"Did you come here to turn me down?" Steve asked, pulling the bottle away from his mouth. "Because I think the kitchen covered that nicely."

"What? No. I didn't turn you down in the kitchen."

Both of Steve's eyebrows rose. "So, what, you're here to say yes?"

"No," Tony said. He groaned when Steve frowned. "God, Steve, nothing seems to come out right when I'm around you. I don't know what it is. I can be the most articulate person in the world, but when it's you - I just lose my ability to string words together. It's maddening."

"You seem to be doing just fine right now."

"That's what you think," Tony said, but sat down even though what he really wanted was to run away. "Look. We both messed up. Bad. It wasn't all your fault. I had some things I needed to say and I didn't say them when I should have. You're not a mind reader."

"I could have asked," Steve pointed out.

"Yeah, you could have. Just like I could have asked if we could have a night off together, or asked if you needed anything you weren't getting, or any of the hundred of things I probably should have asked."

Steve shrugged. "Point. Did you really have panic attacks after we had sex?"

Shit. Tony bounced his leg nervously. "Um. Yes?"

Now Steve looked pained. "Christ, Tony, you should've said something rather than suffer through that. I would've given you whatever you needed."

"I didn't want to seem weak," Tony said quietly. That was only part of it, but a huge part. Steve was Captain America. He had a hard time forgetting that even now. And he hated the thought of seeming weak in front of his childhood hero.

"Sam told me it's not weak to ask for what you need."

"Sam's a smart guy." Tony sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I didn't want anyone to know. Not even Pepper knew."

To give him credit, Steve visibly struggled with not asking the obvious before giving in: "Do Phil and Clint know?"

"Yes. But only because Clint caught me in the kitchen having an attack one night and wouldn't leave."

"I'm glad he was there for you," Steve said slowly, even though it clearly hurt his pride to say.

"So am I," Tony said, trying to smile. "Did you... um, you really want to try again?"

"I did. But if you're happy now, Tony, I would gladly step aside. I meant what I said." Steve blushed suddenly. "Sam, uh, explained what the whole 'let's just be friends' talk means. I must have missed that bit of slang when I was catching up. I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm not going to say that it didn't hurt to hear," Tony told him. "But I get it. If we can't be more, I want to be friends with you too."

Steve looked him in the eyes. "So are we? More?"

There was the million dollar question. The problem was that Tony still didn't have an answer. "I don't know. I need to talk to Phil and Clint. I really like them, Steve."

"Are they good to you?" Steve asked, so fucking earnest that Tony could hardly stand it.

"Yeah," he said, swallowing. "Yeah, they are."

"That's good."

"Yeah," Tony said again, for lack of anything better to say. "But.... I like you too."

Steve's head whipped around. "Really?"

"Really."

Hope was blooming across Steve's face. "So...?"

"So I need to talk to them. But Steve... even if... and I'm not saying... I mean, we can't just go back to the way we were before. We'd have to, you know, date again. Start out slowly." Tony could hardly believe those words were coming from his mouth, but he meant it. He couldn't jump into things with anyone anymore. There was too much potential risk and not enough reward.

"I know," Steve said. "I understand." He was clearly trying not to sound too hopeful, but it was like trying to keep Thor way from the poptarts. Impossible. "I'll leave the decision up to you, Tony. It's your choice."

"You are way too good for me," Tony said.

Steve just smiled. "I'm inclined to think it's the other way around." He stood up, mopping at his face with his shirt. "Will you tell me as soon as you have it figured out?"

"Yes, of course."

"Thanks, Tony." Steve looked down at him and there was an awkward pause, like Steve wanted to lean down and kiss him but felt like he shouldn't, and finally Tony scooted away and stood up too to alleviate the tension. 

"I should go," he said awkwardly.

"Right, yeah. I'll see you at breakfast?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded and quickly walked out of the gym. His legs felt like rubber, but he also felt lighter in a way. That had been really hard, but he couldn't deny that talking to Steve was a huge weight off his shoulders. Now, no matter what happened next, he was confident that he and Steve would be okay. That, more than anything, gave him the confidence to walk back into the bedroom.

Phil was alone in the bed. The bathroom door was shut. He looked up at Tony and said, very evenly, "Clint is taking a bath."

"With a glass of wine?" Tony asked, already knowing the answer.

"The whole bottle, actually."

Yeah, Tony had definitely messed up. He was half-tempted to just cut his losses and spare himself the painful conversation that was inevitably coming, but his feet wouldn't move. "If I offered you the best cocktail ever, would that be enough to earn me a hug?"

"You can have a hug either way, but the cocktail would be appreciated," Phil said, looking at the Tony over the top of his glasses. He was doing paperwork, which meant that he was just as stressed out as Clint was. Tony decided to make it a double.

"I'll be right back," he promised and slipped out of the room as quickly as he'd come, retreating back out to the living room and the fully stocked bar. Fortunately, there were a couple of oranges in the fridge that were still in pretty good shape. Tony sliced them up with ease before adding the rest of the ingredients into a shaker. It gave his hands something to do while his mind raced, struggling to figure out if there was any way he could resolve this peacefully without losing anyone.

People had called Tony selfish before; he'd never denied it.

He coated the rim of the glass with a mixture of cocoa powder and sugar, poured in the cocktail and added some orange wedges. Then he carried his concoction back into the bedroom, where he presented it to Phil. Phil eyed it for a long moment before setting his pen down and accepting the glass, taking a cautious sip. Tony took the opportunity to sneak a peek at the paperwork he'd been doing, realizing that it was from their last battle - a requisition form, to be exact, for the pants that Bruce had borrowed when he changed back from being the Hulk.

"After all this time, I still can't believe you have to handwrite this crap instead of doing it electronically," Tony said.

"Fury knows it bothers you," Phil answered calmly, sipping again.

Tony's mouth dropped open. "What - seriously? That's the only reason SHIELD hasn't joined the modern century? Are you fucking with me?"

Phil gave a little smirk that meant he probably was and just shrugged. "Thanks. It's good."

"It's called a [Chocolate Orange Cream](http://www.food.com/recipe/chocolate-orange-cream-cocktail-342793)," Tony answered absently, trying to figure out whether that was true or not. It definitely sounded like something Fury would do, that asshole. 

"I know. I've had one before. It was -"

"Please don't break up with me," Tony blurted out. He didn't mean to. His mouth was doing a lot of operating without his control tonight.

Mid-sentence, it seemed to take Phil a moment to catch up with him. When he did, his eyes widened and he stared at Tony. His voice was strained when he called out, "Clint, could you join us? Now?"

"Phil?" Tony asked, worried, but Phil just placed a hand on his knee to shush him.

It seemed to take forever before Clint opened the bathroom door, even though it was probably more like a minute. He was stark naked, of course, with a film of bubbles clinging to his hair and a glass of white wine in his right hand. The lights hit him in just the right way, illuminating the way his muscles moved as he took a swig of wine, and Tony was instantly captivated. He'd noticed it before, but it was really just hitting him now: Clint was one goddamn beautiful man.

"What?" Clint asked crossly. "I was right in the middle of my magazine, Phil."

"Tony just wanted you to know that he doesn't want us to break up with him," Phil said. It sounded pleasant enough, save for the underlying tension.

Clint's eyes widened. He turned an incredulous gaze on Tony. "Us? Break up with you? Isn't it the other way around?"

"What?" Tony said. "Why would it be the other way around?"

"I don't know. You're the one who left to go make up with your boyfriend."

" _You_ are my boyfriend," Tony said, finally understanding. "Phil is also my boyfriend. Although fuck, that makes us sound like we're in high school and I am way too old for this shit. Clint, I just went to talk to Steve. I had to find out what he meant."

There was a few seconds during which Clint and Phil exchanged a look that Tony couldn't read, and then Phil said, "And what did you find out?"

This was it. Honesty hour. His stomach was tying itself up in knots, but Tony owed it to them. "That Steve still loves me. That I might still love him. But that I don't want to do anything to jeopardize what we have."

"Wait," Clint said. "So you... you want to stay?"

" _Yes_ ," Tony said, with all of the passion that he could put into one word. "Yes, Clint, god. You guys are so much more than I thought I could have. I didn't even know it could be like this. And that still makes me sound like a high school kid." He put a hand over his face, embarrassed. That made it a little easier, and he went on, "I like Steve. A lot. But I would be starting all over, and I don't even know - I don't know _anything_ , but I know this. Sort of. At least, I want to know more. You make me want to know more. I know that's -"

"It's perfect," Phil said, cutting him off. "But Tony, you don't have to choose."

"What?"

Clint finally walked over to them and sat down on the end of the bed. "Have you ever heard of an open relationship?"

"No..." Tony said slowly, confused. 

"It's when two people - or more - have the kind of relationship where they can date or have sex outside of each other," Clint said. "Phil and I have been like that on and off during our relationship. Phil actually dated a cellist for quite a while before she broke it off with him."

"She met someone else, and wasn't interested in non-monogamy," Phil explained. 

"How is that different from what we have?" Tony asked.

"Because Phil and I aren't interested in dating Steve. Or at least, I'm not," Clint said, smirking at Phil. Interestingly, the tips of Phil's ears turned pink. "What I mean is, if Phil is okay with it, you could date Steve and still be with us as well."

"Does that mean _you're_ okay with it?" Tony said, deeply skeptical.

Clint took his hand, much to Tony's surprise. "Tony, babe, most people grow up thinking that love is a finite resource. I know that's not the case. Just because I love you doesn't mean I love Phil any less. Just because I love you and Phil doesn't mean I love Natasha any less, though I love her in a different way. And I know that just because you love Steve doesn't mean you love Phil and me any less. If that is the way you feel?"

"It is. I - you know. The both of you. A lot." It was a pitiful attempt at a love confession, but it was the closest Tony could get. Fortunately, Clint smiled.

"It would take a lot of talking, especially with Steve. There can't be any secrets. We have to talk a lot, and I know how much you love that," he said teasingly, grinning when Tony wrinkled his nose. "What do you think?"

"It sounds too good to be true. Like I'm being selfish and you're letting me get away with it," Tony said immediately.

"It's not selfish," Phil said, wrapping his free arm around Tony's shoulders. "If this is what makes you happy, then I think Clint and I could be okay with it if you and Steve are."

"But won't you get... you know... jealous?"

Clint shrugged. "That's where the whole talking thing comes into play. It's not something you have to do, either. Steve might not be okay with it, in which case you'd have to make a choice, I guess."

"No choice," Tony muttered, turning his face into the crook of Phil's neck. The idea of an open relationship was weird, but no weirder than polyamory and look at how well that had turned out. He certainly liked the thought that he could have Clint, Phil and Steve - and, if he were being honest, thought he could come around to the idea of Clint or Phil dating someone else too.

"You're just a secret sap," Clint teased, nudging Tony's thigh with his toes.

Tony swatted at his foot. "Stop that. Tell me more about this whole open relationship thing. Tell me more about Phil's cellist."

"Actually," Phil said, smirking at Clint, "let me tell you about this sexy SHIELD agent that Clint thought he'd wrapped around his little finger -"

They stayed up the rest of the night talking - or, well, they talked until about 9am, at which point Clint remembered his bath and sulked about how the water had gone cold. So Phil ran them all a new bath and the three of them climbed in together; the bathtub wasn't exactly suited to three grown men, but that was part of the fun. Needless to say, Tony was feeling more happy and relaxed than he had in weeks by the time they made it to the kitchen for what turned out to be a very late breakfast/early lunch. 

Steve, Bucky, Sam and Natasha were sitting at the table. Tony glanced at Steve, feeling his heart pick up a little as he remembered all over again what he could potentially have if Steve was agreeable and they could all come to a consensus. Clint leaned in and kissed him on the cheek and Phil squeezed his hand. Both of them smiled when Tony looked at them, and, as Tony walked over to Steve, he couldn't help thinking about just how damn lucky he really was. Just knowing that Clint and Phil were both in the room and that they were both okay with this gave him the courage to speak.

"Hey," he said, just a little nervous.

"Hi Tony," Steve said, eyes none-too-subtly flicking between Tony, Clint and Phil. It was obvious he thought that Tony had made his decision, and he was clearly upset about it, though too much of a gentleman to say anything. Tony just grinned at him, relishing in the look of shock that he was about to get.

"Steve, how would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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